Tuesday, January 3, 2012

May the Force be with you

PHOTO: My girls and me. My motivation to get healthy.


Okay. It’s January 3, 2012. How’s the resolutions going? Just asking…

Here’s my philosophy on dieting. SPHLAAA!

I don’t know about you but I’ve been developing a list of questions I’m going to ask God when I see Him. This list is several columns wide now and several years in the making. There are the typical mysteries I want to know, like “Why do bad things happen to good people?” and “How can God be in China and Oshkosh, WI at the same time?” Deep things like that. And then there’s the every day variety question like, “If liver is so good for you, how come it taste so very, very bad?” Same goes for broccoli, beets and rutabagas. Or, “If He didn’t want us to eat chocolate peanut butter balls, then why did He give us the peanut, the sugar cane and the coco bean?” Seriously, what did He think we we’re going to do with those things?

Why, oh, why is it so easy to eat badly and so hard to eat healthy? Or am I the only one who has a problem with this? I never had a weight problem until I got married. Then, the minute I said, “I do”, it was like my body forgot how to process food. I don’t know why I bother to put anything into my mouth. To save time I should just applied it directly to my hips and been done with it.

But, here I am once again promising myself I’ll do better. And I mean it. I always mean it. Maybe this year, I really mean it. At least I have help now. There’s LuLu, the pink bike and her friends. There’s my hubs bound and determined to lose some weight along with me in the coming months as well. But here’s the rub with that. I’ll exercise two hours a day, eat a spinach leaf and a half a celery stick, and maybe, maybe I’ll lose a pound every month or so. The hubs just has to decide to not put ice cream on his piece of chocolate cake and he’ll lose seven pounds in one week. Don’t get me started.

But, try I will…. once again. Why? Because I want to be healthier. I have seven grandkids that love for me to play and roll around with them. I don’t want their lasting memory of me to be the traumatic sight of this chunky lady struggling to get up off the floor. Also, I want to honor God by honoring this body He gave me. He made me with forethought and love. Of course, that’s on my list of questions too. “Why did He give me this particular body?" Sense of humor maybe?

I’ll let you know how it’s coming. And, let me hear from you too. Surely, I’m not the only toots on the planet trying to get her Cowgirl to fit on a bike seat.

Good luck to us all! May the Force be with you.


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